What I reel in on the line,
The fish is to be mine.
Something slimy and silver,
Jumps right out of the river.
I hope, then I look,
That fish is on my hook.
I am the only one catching fish,
The others can only wish.
They say I caught the same one many times,
But they cannot overlook the truth that chimes.
At the end of the day,
Hardwork does pay.
As the boys get home empty-handed,
On my hopes, fish have landed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem